


once in a blue moon

by deathbyglamour



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Chance Meetings, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:58:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8873032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathbyglamour/pseuds/deathbyglamour
Summary: Six years later, Yaku meets Lev again by chance.





	

_We need to talk tomorrow._

     Yaku stops on the sidewalk, pulling his scarf tighter against the brisk November wind. That was an ominous text to receive from a significant other. He has a funny feeling he knows exactly what it means. He types back a quick _okay_ and sighs, staring up at the full moon encircled in clouds directly above him.

      The sound of a bell tinkling jolts Yaku from his thoughts. He realizes that he’s outside a bar, one that he passes every day going to and from work. A couple exits the bar, arm-in-arm, laughing into the cold night air. From inside, the sound of glasses clinking and faint piano music fills the air briefly before the door shuts again. The couple edges around Yaku, the man giving him a look that makes him acutely aware he’s standing stationary in the middle of the sidewalk.

     Yaku stares at the dark wood of the door in front of him, the long gold of the handle. The place is small, crammed between two other businesses.

     “What the hell,” he says out loud, and opens the door.

     It’s been a long time since he’s gone drinking after work, and even longer since he’s gone alone. But he’s just stopping in for a moment, checking out a new place, and after one or two drinks he’ll leave and be home by a respectable hour. He has tomorrow off, anyway.

     His girlfriend’s text message runs through his mind once more.

     Inside, the bar is indeed small. It could be called cozy, if one was being generous. There are a few booths to the left, a few tables to the right, and in the center, a bar empty of both customers and bartender.

     Yaku’s shoes clack on the tile floor as he approaches the bar, ringing the bell by the register and taking a seat. The bar has stools only, and right then and there Yaku decides he won’t be coming back. He loathes bar stools. His feet dangle ridiculously.

     Despite his best efforts, he hasn’t grown an inch since high school.

     He’s busy glaring down at his feet when the bartender comes out from the back, so he’s utterly unprepared for the cry of “Yaku-san!” that comes a moment later.

      His head flies up. He blinks once, twice, three times. Considers rubbing his eyes in case that clears his vision, but there’s no point. The person in front of him is unmistakable for the shock of silver hair on his head.

      “Lev?” Yaku asks in disbelief.

     He doesn’t need the other man’s confirmation. It is, without a doubt, Haiba Lev. Yaku’s underclassman from…how many years ago was it, now?

     “It’s been so long, Yaku-san,” Lev says, echoing his thoughts.

     He looks nearly the same as Yaku remembers him – the hair, the eyes, the goofy smile stretching too-big across his face. Except he’s not quite the same – he’s swapped the volleyball uniform for a bartender’s outfit, complete with a black bowtie at his throat. He’s unmistakably older, his face matured. And…was it possible?

     “Did you get taller, Lev?” he asks, accusatory.

     “I did, Yaku-san! You look about the same as I remember, though.” He laughs.

      Yaku thinks about punching him, but refrains. They’re adults now, and this is his place of work. It’s a tempting thought, though.

     “You don’t seem to have changed much, either,” he says instead.

     Lev smiles at that. “What can I get you, Yaku-san?”

     Yaku picks a cocktail off the menu at random, and Lev doesn’t leave to make the drink, instead mixing it right in front of Yaku. His movements are sharp, practiced, like those rare moments on the court when he stopped fumbling around and really spiked the ball down hard.

     “So…you’re bartending, huh?” Yaku grimaces at himself. What a dull opener.

     “It’s just part-time work while I finish up school,” Lev says, sliding Yaku’s drink across the bar to him.

     “School? Volleyball?”

     “Nah. Well at first, yeah. But I gave it up second year. I go to art school now.”

     Yaku’s eyes widen. “Art school? You can draw?”

     Lev makes a shutter-clicking motion with his hand, grinning. “Photography.”

     “Wow.” Yaku takes a sip of his drink, processing that information. Things like art and photography didn’t fit in with his image of first-year Haiba Lev. But everyone changes, right?

     “What about you, Yaku-san?”

     Yaku thinks about his job, about long days spent typing away at his desk.

     He shrugs. “Just a salaryman. Working to pay the bills, and everything.” It sounds so boring compared to Lev’s revelation, but the other man is nodding, wide-eyed and attentive.

     “That’s so mature, Yaku-san. My mother always says I’ll never be able to pay the bills with photography.”

     “You don’t know that,” Yaku says, although he’s not sure why. He’s never seen Lev’s pictures, the guy could be terrible for all he knows.

     It makes Lev beam, though, so it must be the right thing to say. “Thanks, Yaku-san.”

     Yaku coughs, takes a generous drink from his cocktail. He considers telling Lev he can drop the ‘san,’ but decides against it. It makes him feel a bit more grounded. Running into his old classmate has him feeling strange, slightly off-balance, for some reason.

     “What do you take pictures of?” he asks, more for the distraction of words than anything.

     “People, mostly,” Lev says, without even thinking about it. “Maybe I could take your picture some time, Yaku-san.”

     Yaku laughs, drinks more. He feels pleasantly buzzed already – he was never good with alcohol.

     “Sure, if we run into each other again.”

     Lev looks taken aback. “You will come back, right? I work most nights, you’ll see me.”

     Yaku blinks up at Lev. He’s not sure what it is – the drink, the dim lighting, the hour of the night – but suddenly he can’t say anything but, “Yeah, sure.”

 

     Hana-chan dumps him.

     They’d only been dating a month, but it still stings. Things were going well – at least, he’d thought so. She’s a secretary at his firm, so he’ll have to see her all the time. That was fine – they’d parted cordially, her bowing and apologizing and saying ‘I just don’t think we have the chemistry I thought we did, Morisuke.’ And him saying, ‘it’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright,’ over and over, although he wasn’t sure it was. And that was the end of that.

     That night he does two things he doesn’t expect from himself: First, he takes Lev up on his offer to ‘come back any time.’ Second, he gets dizzingly, room-spinningly, tongue-looseningly drunk.

     He slumps over the bar, head pillowed in his arms, and glances up in time to see Lev’s concerned face peering at him.

     “I think I have to cut you off, Yaku-san,” he says, apologetic.

     “I’m fine, I’m fine.” Yaku waves his hand airily.

     Lev looks unconvinced. “What’s wrong?”

     Yaku sighs, considers throwing out another ‘I’m fine.’ Another ‘it’s alright.’ But it’s not alright, is it?

     “My girlfriend dumped me,” he says instead, staring openly at Lev for a reaction. He gets one, a wide-eyed look of shock.

     “Oh,” he says. His shocked face fades into a frown. “Why?”

     And that’s just it, isn’t it? Yaku can’t answer that question.

     “She said we didn’t have chemistry,” he says. “But I don’t think that’s the truth. Or, not the whole truth.”

     The spinning of the room is suddenly a lot less fun than it had been moments ago. He presses a hand to his temples, trying to orient himself. It’s impossible. He’s drunk at a bar with his underclassman from six years ago.

     “I guess I just don’t know why,” he hears himself continue. “Could be anything. I’m short, not particularly interesting, my job isn’t great….” He cuts himself off. He sounds pathetic. Isn’t he supposed to be the mature one here?

     “That’s not true, Yaku-san!” Lev’s voice is so loud he winces, looks up. Lev looks fierce. “None of that is true. You’re great, Yaku-san! If she couldn’t see that, then she doesn’t deserve you.”

     Yaku cracks a smile. “What are you talking about, Lev? You don’t even know me anymore, really.”

     “I can just tell,” he says stubbornly. “You were always a good senpai, Yaku-san. You were smart, and good at receives, and you always taught me well.” A blush appears on his pale skin. Yaku blinks.

     “I didn’t know you felt that way, Lev.”

     “I did.” The blush gets stronger. “In fact, Yaku-san…in fact…back then, I…liked you!” He shouts the last bit so loud Yaku swears he sees another patron in the bar glance at them.

     Yaku’s face heats up. “You…what?” He presses a hand to his temple again, and laughs. He can’t really help it, it just bubbles out of him.

     “Are you laughing at me, Yaku-san?”

     When Yaku looks up, Lev is pouting adorably. It only makes him laugh harder.

     He orders another drink.

 

     As soon as Yaku opens his eyes, the headache slams into him like a tidal wave. The bright morning sunlight stabs at his eyes, and mild nausea roils in his stomach. Despite this, he has to roll out of bed, get dressed, and go to work.

     On the way there he passes the bar as always, and everything from the night before comes crashing down on him. His embarrassing spiel. Lev’s…confession? Belated confession? His response, or lack thereof.

     His face flushes intensely. His head can’t handle the stress on top of a hangover, so he pushes it out of his mind until lunchtime.

     On his break, he pulls out his phone and opens a message to Kuroo. Kuroo is the only member of the team he’s kept in contact with, courtesy of them living within a block of each other.

     _You’ll never guess who works at the bar near my work,_ he opens with. He doesn’t get a reply before his lunch ends, and spends the rest of his day with a strange, pent-up energy, like last night’s exchange is dying to be told to someone else.

     After work, he has a reply. One word: _who?_

     _Haiba Lev_ , he says, and this time he doesn’t have to wait for a reply. It comes as he’s walking home, passing the bar quickly like Lev will somehow sense his presence and come running out.

_Shit, no way,_ Kuroo says. _What are the odds. How’s the kid doing?_

_Fine. He told me something…interesting, though._

_Interesting? >:3 What is it?_

     Yaku sighs at the emoticon, but continues typing. _He told me he liked me in high school. You know, in ‘that’ way._

     He doesn’t expect Kuroo’s reply _. Well duh. What else is new._

     _???_ Is all he sends. He’s home by now, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it into the hamper.

      _We all knew dude. I thought you knew too. It was obvious_.

     _I didn’t even know he liked guys!!_ Yaku texts back frantically. _It was in no way obvious!!_

     _So was_ , Kuroo says.

     Yaku sets his phone on the dinner table. He’s twenty-four, he won’t let Kuroo pull him into a childish back and forth. His apartment is all one room, which means it’s easy to move from the dinner table to collapsing on his bed, staring up at the white ceiling. His headache is mostly gone, but he still feels out of sorts, slightly wrung out.

     He can’t stop thinking about last night.

     There’s an obvious, easy solution. If he just avoids the bar, he won’t have to deal with Lev or any of the strange revelations he spouts.

     Faint light from the sunset filters through the windows. Soon he’ll make dinner, eat it alone. He finds himself longing, just for a moment, for his nightly phone calls with Hana. They hadn’t always been interesting, but they’d been something.

      The walls of his room look especially bare.

 

     Two weeks pass, slowly. Each day he walks past the bar on his way to work, spends all day staring at his computer screen, and walks past the bar again on the way home.

     It’s work, in the end, that brings him back. He files a report wrong on one strange, distracted day, and the scolding from his boss rings in his ears for hours. He gets to the bar on his walk home, and stares at the door. _What the hell_ , he thinks again, déjà vu washing over him as he pulls the door open.

     Lev’s behind the bar. Yaku isn’t sure if he’s relieved or not. A strange feeling swirls in his stomach, something like nerves despite the calm, sweet piano music coming from the old jukebox. Lev brightens up as soon as he sees Yaku, finishing up with the other patron at the bar and practically falling over himself to serve Yaku.

     Yaku finds himself laughing, despite himself.

     “Hey, Lev,” he says, still smiling.

     The other man matches his expression. “Yaku-san! I was waiting for you to come back.”

     Yaku’s face warms. “Uh, thanks. Rum and coke this time, I think.”

     Lev pours the drink, sliding it across the bar and beaming like a puppy that just completed a trick. Yaku almost wants to reach out and pet him, and the thought makes his face heat up more. He accepts the drink with a gruff cough.

     It’s warm going down, and he thinks about high school as he drinks it. Lev’s called away for a moment by another customer, and Yaku watches him from the corner of his eye. Had Lev’s high school crush really been as obvious as Kuroo insinuated? Lev had been rather eager with him, following him around and constantly seeking him out for praise. But Yaku had always written that off as him being a senpai, and the one that taught him receives. He’d never imagined it was…personal.

     Lev comes right back after finishing with the customer.

     “I’m glad you came back,” he says.

     “I gathered that,” Yaku says dryly.

     “No!” Lev’s gaze turns intense for a moment. His eyes are terribly green. “I mean, because. Of what I said last time. I was worried I grossed you out.”

     Yaku waves a hand. “Lev, I’m bisexual.”

     “Oh!” For some reason, color blooms high on Lev’s cheeks. “That’s good!”

     “That’s good?” Yaku raises his eyebrows, then laughs at Lev’s expression. “I guess.”

     “How’ve you been?” Lev says, suddenly looking serious. “Since the breakup?”

     “Oh,” Yaku straightens up, takes another sip of his drink. “I haven’t been thinking about it too much.” As he says the words, he realizes their truth. He’d been more preoccupied with Lev’s belated confession than anything.

     Lev nods. “That’s the way. You look kind of down, though?”

     “Hard day at work,” he sighs, props his head up on his hand. “I messed up.”

     “You’ll get it next time,” Lev says, eyes serious. “Everyone messes up sometimes.”

     Yaku blinks, surprised. _He’s more mature now, isn’t he?_

     “So do you mess up? With your photography, I mean?”

     “Of course,” Lev says. “All the time!”

     Yaku hums. “I’d like to see your photos, sometime.”

     “If you come over to my place, I can show you,” Lev says eagerly, leaning forward.

     For some reason, Yaku’s heart beats faster. “Hmm? Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind that.”

     “I’ll give you my number,” Lev says, holding his hand out for Yaku’s phone. “Text me sometime, okay?”

     “Alright,” Yaku accepts the phone back, stares at the number under _Lev Haiba ^_^_ like it’s a foreign creature.

     “You can come over any time,” Lev continues, oblivious. “Unless I’m at school. Or work. Well,” he flushes. “Like I said, text me.”

     “Right,” Yaku says. “Will do.”

 

     His next day off, Saturday, finds him at the apartment Kuroo shares with Kenma.

     “He gave me his number,” Yaku says in lieu of a greeting, unraveling his scarf and dumping his bag by his shoes.

     Kuroo and Kenma are curled together on the sofa, watching some anime Yaku’s never seen before. Kuroo raises one eyebrow.

     “Who?”

     Yaku flops into the armchair to the right of the sofa. “Who do you think? Lev.”

     Kenma blinks at him through the wide, uninterested eyes he’s always had. “You’re still talking with Lev?”

     “The bar’s on my way home from work,” Yaku says, defensive. “It makes sense to stop in.”

     “Sure, sure,” Kuroo says. “So. He gave you his number.”

     “Told me to ‘stop by his place anytime,’ too,” he sighs.

     His face heats up as Kuroo lifts an eyebrow again. “If you keep doing that, they’ll get stuck that way,” he says to distract himself.

     Kuroo laughs. “Sounds like you two are getting along well, then. What’s the problem?”

     “The problem?” Yaku pauses. What, exactly, is the problem? “There’s no problem, I guess.”

     “You only come to me when you have problems,” Kuroo says, with a put-upon sigh. “I always feel so used.”

     “Shut up, I do not.”

     “Do so.”

     Yaku glares. Then he really thinks.

     “Well, I suppose…it’s just odd. Him saying he liked me back then, and inviting me over….”

     “What, you think he still likes you?” Kuroo says.

     Yaku waves his hands. “It’s not that. It’s just….”

     “You like him?” Kenma suggests.

     “What?” Yaku’s face burns. “Who said anything about that?

     “Kinda seems that way, pal,” Kuroo says, idly running his hand through Kenma’s hair.

     “I don’t even know him, really,” Yaku says.

     “But you could,” Kenma points out. “He invited you over. You could text him.”

     “You should text him,” Kuroo says. “Poor kid is probably waiting up for you.”

     “I really doubt that,” Yaku says, rolling his eyes.

     But when he gets home, he texts Lev anyway.

_Lev. It’s Yaku._

_Yaku-san! : ) you texted!_

_Obviously._

_Does this mean you want to come over soon?_

     Yaku stares down at his phone. Is that what he means? He thinks of Kuroo and Kenma, snuggled together on the couch like they belong there.

     _I guess it does._

 

     Lev’s apartment is exactly the disaster Yaku expects it to be.

     “Welcome!” Lev says, throwing the door open. “Sorry about the mess.”

     He doesn’t look sorry at all. He’s been beaming nonstop since he met Yaku at the station. There certainly is a mess, though. It’s clothes, mainly, piled on nearly every available surface in wobbly towers of fabric. Yaku can see a small kitchenette, the only clothing-free zone in the room. Lev makes for the hallway to the right, beckoning with his hand.

     “I’ll show you my room. That’s where I keep all my cameras and stuff.”

     Yaku follows slowly. There are photographs lining the short hallway, all featuring people Yaku’s never seen before. Lev’s friends from school, most likely, and a couple photos that can only be Lev’s family. Except there, at the very end of the hall, is a photo Yaku recognizes – the old volleyball team, featuring Yaku himself.

     “You coming, Yaku-san?” Lev pokes his head back out of his room.

     “Oh, yeah.” Yaku shakes himself, and ducks into Lev’s room with only mild trepidation.

     “Wow,” he says, looking around. It’s the cleanest space in the apartment, but it’s also crammed full of equipment. There are at least five different kinds of cameras in sight. One thing, though, immediately draws Yaku’s eye.

     On the wall, across from the bed, is an enormous bulletin board. It’s covered from top to bottom with photos of people, newer ones layered on top of older ones like a collage. Again, there’s no one Yaku recognizes, but the vast array of faces is striking.

     “You like it?” Lev asks, grinning.

     All Yaku can do is nod. “You took all those?”

     “Of course!” Lev seizes one of the cameras closest to him. “If you want…” He bites down on his lip. “I could take your picture? Then it could go on the wall, too.”

     Yaku definitely isn’t blushing. It’s just hot in the small room. “Well, sure. I don’t see why not.”

     Lev beams. “Let’s go back in the living room, the lighting’s better.” He practically skips out of the room.

     Yaku follows more slowly, shutting the door behind him. He thinks seeing the rows of photos of all these strangers should be disconcerting. They’re just a reminder of how far apart he and Lev’s lives are. But he thinks of Kenma, saying that Yaku _could_ know Lev, and he feels fine.

     Out in the living room, Lev is waiting, a beatific smile on his face.

     “You really like photography, huh?” Yaku says, laughing a little.

     “Uh, yeah. Photography.” Lev chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks about as pink in the face as Yaku feels.

     “So, where should I…?” Yaku gestures vaguely.

     Lev’s face goes serious. “Sit down, maybe? Yeah, like that, and put your arm up like this….”

     Yaku lets Lev pose him, feeling only slightly awkward. It’s…cute, seeing Lev in boss mode. By the time Lev starts actually snapping pictures, Yaku’s sure his face is bright red. He hopes against hope that it won’t show up in the photos.

     “Great!” Lev says when he’s done. He lowers the camera and smiles again, this time soft and slow. “Thanks, Yaku-san.”

     “Uh, sure,” Yaku says, frozen in place by the weight of Lev’s smile. “Anytime.”

     “Do you mean that?” Is it his imagination, or is Lev getting closer…?

     “Yeah,” Yaku says. It’s not his imagination. Lev is right in front of him. Their height difference has never been so apparent now with Yaku sitting down, but somehow he can’t find it in himself to be annoyed at this exact moment. “Yeah, I mean it.”

     It’s quiet for a moment, the silence filling the room tangibly. Then –

     “Yaku-san, can I kiss you?” Lev says it so straightforwardly, so naturally.

     “Lev,” Yaku says. It tastes like a protest on his tongue. “You hardly know me anymore. I’m not the same person I was in high school.”

     “Me neither,” Lev says. Yaku’s never seen his face so serious. “I’m not either, Yaku-san. But still, I want to kiss you.”

     Yaku stares up at him.

     “I know you, Yaku-san,” Lev insists, softly. “I know that…you’re a good person, still.”

     Yaku stands up, pulls himself up onto his tiptoes, and kisses Lev.

     It’s soft, sweet, like curling up on the couch together, like running your hand through someone’s hair.

     “Yaku-san,” Lev says, after. He’s smiling that soft smile again. “I need to tell you something.”

     “Yeah?” Yaku says, still breathless.

     “I’m glad your girlfriend broke up with you.”

     Yaku laughs, bright and loud. “Me too, Lev.”

**Author's Note:**

> anyone else in rarepair hell 24/7?  
> thanks for reading!


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